The Legend of Sleepy Hollow A MalikYGO FanFic
by Ookami-and-Chem-Mu
Summary: Young schoolmaster Ichabod Crane, Malik Ishtar, is sent from New York to teach the youth in a small village called Sleepy Hollow. The only thing no one told him before he left is that the Greensburgh forest I haunted by a Hessian Ghost, Mariku ! - Chemmu


**What what?! What's this?! Another fan fiction by Chem mu?! (other one was deleted, it was terrible...) And this one might actually be good?!?!!! Well, I supposed that's up for the reviewers to decide. This fanfic is based more on the book version of Sleepy Hollow rather than the movie, but there may be some mixing from the movie as well. Also inspired by the Halloween fan art I made, link on the profile page. Hope anyone who reads enjoys and reviews would be wonderful! Thanks! - Chem Mu**

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The wind howled fiercely and battered the trees of the Greensburgh forest, an eerie sound accompanied only by the rhythmic sound of a horse walking the small dirt road. The horse's rider, a young, tall man, was on his way to Sleepy Hollow where a few of his family's distant relatives lived. HIs mother and father had fallen on hard times and he was sent to see if their relatives would allow him to work on their farm for money, though he was beginning to question taking the path he had chosen to get there. It was a shorter route to cut through the Greensburgh forest, but the chilling feeling he had as he made his way through made him wish he had taken the longer route.

The air was frigid even though it was late spring. The typically warm weather seemed to have picked a bad night to turn cold. His teeth chattered as he thought about the temperature and how his coat was so thin...

_Thunk th-thunk._ A noise started up behind him. Recognizing the sound of hoof beats in a cantor, he kicked his horse and leaned forward in hopes to propel it faster. _Thunk th-thunk th-thunk th-thunk._ The beats were getting faster and louder. Now he truly regretted coming this way. He knew the stories told about this forest, just like everyone, but did he take heed to the warning? "YAH! YAH!" he shouted as he kicked the horse again. All he could do was hope that he would outrun the specter and make it to his relative's house. _Trump trump trump trump._ The sound of another horse racing down the path became painfully close until he heard the terrifyingly shrill cry it gave.

The whinny caused his own horse to panic and, in it's terror, it threw him from it's back. He landed with a loud "thud" onto the hard ground below. A sharp pain took over his left arm as he tried to get up. Crying out in agony, he pushed himself up onto his feet regardless of his broken arm. He didn't have the time to care about a broken limb, his very life was on the line as the other horse drew closer. His horse had run off in a frightened flurry, leaving him to fend for himself to attempt to outrun the horrifying ghost.

His attempt was in vain. The black steed, with eyes that glowed bright red and the look of a demon, caught up to the young man in a heartbeat. It's master drew his sword from his sheath and cleanly removed the head from his victim. A lesson to those who trespass into his forest, though it is only learned a single time by each trespasser. The hessian claimed the head as his prize and fee for the intrusion.

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Ichabod left the school house after meeting with the principal. It was a relatively large school for it's time, seeing as they had a principal and several teachers who specialized in different subjects. His specialty was science, but he had a knack for teaching and could teach a child to learn anything. On that note, the principal had requested in the meeting that he used his talent of teaching in the small village of Sleepy Hollow. Ichabod felt a bit disdained at the thought of leaving the city for a small village to teach children that would most likely grow up to become farmers like their parents. But it was a request from the head farmer of Sleepy Hollow that the best teacher be sent to their quiet town, and seeing as he was the best the school could offer, he was asked to go.

Reaching his small flat a few blocks away from the school house, he entered and slumped down on his small, victorian style couch. He repeated the words, "Ichabod, I'd like to have a word with you," over and over in his head, wishing the outcome of the meeting had been for almost anything else besides leaving.

Ichabod.

He hated his name now that he thought about it, running his hands through his platinum blonde hair in an attempt to calm his nerves. His skin was a medium tan, though he had lived in New York since he was born. It was his mother's heritage that showed up in him physically.

She had told him how she ended up in America, that her parents had been abducted from their native country of Egypt, and forced to be a wealthy family's servants. They met on the ship that took them to England. Finding it difficult to live as the family's servants due to their race and inability to speak English well, they fled the home one night and stowed away on a ship headed to America, raved as the "land of opportunity." Though they still didn't fit in perfectly, they had it a bit easier here than they did in England. His mother was born here, just like him, and she learned to speak English, making it easier for her to fit in because of it, but she had her hardships due to race as well. Yet even that dissipated as she grew up. She was a very beautiful woman when she was alive, and he had only a few photographs of her to remind him of that. She had died when he was young, but he couldn't remember much about it.

He always remembered the name she called him by: Malik. It was his middle name, but he liked it better than Ichabod, which was no doubt given to him by his father. His father. He never liked his father very much, considering he was a very strict and religious man. He constantly wondered how his mother ended up with him, though he always came to the conclusion that it wasn't by choice. His father was of German decent, like many people living in America. Though knowing how his father was, he couldn't imagine Germany to be a pleasant place.

He shook his head in attempt to clear his mind of his thoughts. This was no time to think about his parents or his name. The request was that a school teacher should be sent as soon as it was possible, and, because of this, he was leaving tomorrow afternoon. He stood up and went off to his room to begin packing his personal belongings. This house would remain his even while he was off in Sleepy Hollow, so he could return at some point anyways. It wasn't like this was going to be for forever...

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The carriage jiggled and bumped as it went down the cleared path towards Sleepy Hollow. Ichabod's brow furrowed subconsciously while he tried to turn his mind to thoughts other than the bump carriage ride. Just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach. They said this driver was very reliable before he left, so he didn't worry too much, but the path they rode on was dirt in comparison to the cobblestone roads back home in New York, which made sure that the imperfections in the road were unpredictable and dangerous. A hard fact to look over, but he would try...no, he WOULD turn his mind away from his current surroundings and think of something else.

He began to wonder what kind of place the head farmer had and what he would be sheltered in during his stay. Something modest no doubt, something only a farming village could afford. Surely the head farmer had some wealth to send for a decent teacher for the village, but it couldn't be THAT much wealth. The children he would be teaching crossed his mind also. What would they be like? They couldn't be terribly wild like most city folk would assume, he knew better than that. They would probably be hard working and at least mostly well mannered from helping their parents farm. Yet he couldn't help but imagine that they were still a bit rough around the edges.

The carriage jolted to a stop, violently snapping him from his thoughts as he almost tumbled forward. A rude awakening to let him know they had reached his destination. He tipped the driver as he got out, his tripped had been paid for when he left, and stared at the mansion in front of him after he jumped to the ground. The house was huge! Bigger than he had been anticipating and throwing his perspective of this village to a more optimistic outlook. "Maybe this won't be so bad..." he mumbled under his breath, turning to help the driver carry his luggage. Approaching the modestly carved doors, he took hold of one of the ornately crafted door knockers and beat it gently against the door. It was quickly answered by a young servant girl, who gave a humbled welcome and showed him into the entrance room. As he looked in awe at the beautiful room he had stepped into, he was greeted by a man's voice. "Welcome to my home, you must be Ichabod Crane, the schoolmaster sent to us from New York." His voice was soft, but the voice of a leader. It also gave away a slight hint to his age being mildly past his prime. Ichabod turned to look to him, giving a slight bow out of respect before replying, "yes, I am Ichabod, but, if you'd like, you may call me by my middle name: Malik." "I see you are not so keen about your first name?" the man replied, his left eyebrow cocking only momentarily before he continued on, "no matter! I am the head of the house, as I'm sure you have already guessed, Baltus van Tassel. Sarah, our servant girl, will show you to your room. Do not be alarmed by other women in this house, they would only be my wife and my dearest daughter, Katrina." Malik thanked him again kindly and he helped Sarah take his luggage to his room.

It was a modest, simple room in comparison to the rooms he imagined belonged to the family themselves, but it was better than the room he had thought he would be staying in before. "Is there anything else I can get for you Master Ichabod?" Sarah asked politely. "No, that will be all," Malik replied, showing a slight disdain from being called 'Master Ichabod'. "The Master of the house just wanted me to inform you that tomorrow we will be hosting a spectacular party in honor of this year's good harvest and you are invited as an honored guest of the family and village," she informed him, "I will be sent to you tomorrow an hour before it starts so that you may get ready." Malik thanked her again and she went on her way, softly closing the door behind her. Malik began to unpack, a small wardrobe accompanied the modest desk and almost-big-enough bed that were in the room, but it was fine with him. He glanced out of the window that was in front of him and saw what he assumed to be a man talking to his son before going into a fenced-in watch tower. He wondered why this village had a watch tower, but only for a moment. He figured it was to keep wolves away from the livestock.

Having everything emptied from his suitcases, he stacked the luggage containers in the corner and then laid down on the bed. A knock on the door sent him shooting up into a sitting position before Sarah entered again and placed a tray of food on the desk. The Mistress thought you might be hungry from your travels, so she sent me with a meal." Malik thanked her and she left for the last time that night. He ate, finding the food to be fantastic, and set the tray outside of the door so that Sarah would not have to come into the room again. He changed into his sleep clothes and began drifting off to sleep, but another disturbance kept him from falling asleep. A gunshot. Being a city dweller, his first thought was someone's being murdered, but then he remembered the father and son talking and the watch tower. The man probably just noticed some wolves and shot at them to scare them off. Yeah, that was it... With out further delay, he rolled over and finally fell asleep.


End file.
